


Dough Rises and Sauce to Meet It

by kaybohls



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Food Porn, Gratuitous Smut, Kitchen Sex, Pizza, Restaurants, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaybohls/pseuds/kaybohls
Summary: Ben Solo has had free reign of his family’s landmark pizzeria, Domenico’s for the last few years and the business has been more successful than ever...until a bright, shiny,NEWplace opens across the street that gives Ben a literal run for his money.After reading one too many scalding Yelp reviews, Ben storms across the street to give this ballsy new owner a piece of mind but quickly finds out that she is as young, free, and beautiful as her shop claims to be.





	1. Sucker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sweetlyvillainous (Wayward_Dreamer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Dreamer/gifts).



> This was the most fun to write!!
> 
> A huge thank you to my writer fam: House Flydam, my Sprinter sisters in The Writer’s Den and my closest friends from RTCWG. Without you all, I’d be adrift on a wordless sea. 
> 
> A big shoutout to Wayward_Dreamer, who gifted me this plunny...look what it turned into! 
> 
> It was a joy to write and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/144005946@N02/40933538903/in/dateposted-public/)

It was one o’clock on a Friday afternoon and all signs of the restaurant world should’ve had the dining room bursting at the seams with the end of the week lunch rush. Ben Solo leaned darkly against the dark mahogany bar and glared out into the dimly lit room. 

Domenico’s Pizzeria had been an institution for the last forty years in the center of Hanna City, raking in the crowds from across all the boroughs to come get a taste of the best pizza in town. The restaurant had been passed down from his grandparents to his mother and her twin brother when he was still a kid and had flourished even further under their management. 

Ben remembered clearing dirty dishes and learning to toss pizza dough as soon as he was tall enough to see over the counter and wear an apron without it dragging on the floor. Domenico’s was the Skywalker family legacy and he had been honored to take it over when both his mother and her brother decided to retire. 

Things had gone well for a time and stayed as busy as ever, Ben was proud to say, until a new restaurant opened across the cobblestone-lined street. A pizzeria. 

At first he laughed to himself when he saw the modern, sleek sign: Bocca Felice go up above the glass doors. Ben immediately felt sorry for the poor schmuck who thought so highly of their pizza that they’d open across the street from the legendary Domenico’s and have the chutzpah to name their pizzeria “happy mouth”. He gave them three months before they’d flounder in the shadow of his family’s legacy.

But as the time went by, the crowds at Domenico’s began to thin and lines began to form daily outside of Bocce Felice that stretched around the block. 

There’s no way their pizza is _that_ good, Ben had thought, taking it upon himself to pull up the neighboring establishment’s menu on his phone one day, flipping through the clean and crisp website with a twitch of his eye. 

Grilled peach and prosciutto…Brussels sprouts and salami…fried egg, Nduja and mustard greens…fig and goat cheese…sour cherry and bacon….Who the flying fuck puts fruit on their pizza? What in the hell was this sort of blasphemy? 

_And here I was thinking that pineapple on pizza was disgusting…_

As he stood against the empty bar, Ben couldn’t help but glare past the the letters emblazoned on the front window to see the lunch crowd happily milling around the whitewashed brick across the street. He looked around the dimly lit dining room, taking in the classic décor that had remained largely unchanged since his grandparents opened the restaurant so long ago. 

Tiny round tables sat scattered across the black and white checkered floor with red gingham tablecloths and stout, empty bottles of Chianti with months of candle wax dripping down the sides of the twine-corded bottlenecks. The classic sounds of The Rat Pack crooned over the speakers amongst the black and white celebrity photographs that were hung on the dark brick walls. 

This place was an institution. A classic. This was just a slump from this business having some beginners luck, that’s all. Things were bound to pick back up. Their food was delicious and their customers loved them. The proof was in the pudding…or rather, the reviews. 

Ben stood up a little straighter from his perch at the bar when he thought about how long Domenico’s had maintained a four and a half star review on Yelp and their profile was loaded with an endless stream of great reviews that he was proud of. 

Ben reached into his pocket to unlock the screen of his phone with a flip of his thumb, desperate to have his mood lifted by the reassurance that the good people of Hanna City hadn’t forgotten about them. With a press of a finger, his face lit of with the red logo as he brought up the profile of his precious family legacy.

His vision stayed red as his dark eyes roved over each word, his stomach souring as he saw a reoccurring theme across every new review.

_Loved Domenico’s growing up. Pizza is still great but the restaurant is a little tired feeling. The new owner is a little intense. If you are looking for a fresher experience, go across the street to Bocca Felice. Worth the wait in line and the chef is a breath of fresh air._

_Had high hopes after reading older reviews. Wished I would have seen the new ones and gone across the street instead. Went back to Bocca Felice a few days later for a primo slice of pizza. Will be going there from here on out._

_Been ordering pies from Domenico’s for what feels like forever. Still good but boring. Nothing ever changes. Bring something new and exciting. In the meantime, I’ll go to Bocca Felice across the street to try something beyond the red sauce and cheese. Someone tell the big guy behind the bar to smile once in a while._

_Come on dude, time to let the past die and move on from 1978. If you want nostalgia, Domenico’s is your place. If you live in the present, go across the street to Bocca Felice for new and exciting flavors and the best customer service._

Ben pressed his mouth together in a thin line as he tried to keep his silently seething anger from boiling over the edge but he couldn’t keep it contained as he read review after review…all saying the same goddamned thing. Bocca Felice. Bocca Felice. Mother fucking Bocca Felice and their goddamned fruity ass crap they called pizza.

He looked around the sad state of his dining room and decided enough was fucking enough. Shoving his palms again the cool wooden surface of the bar, Ben stuffed his phone in his pocket and strode through the dining room to push his way out the door and into the sunlight.

It only took a couple moments for his large feet to carry him across the hundred year old cobblestone of Endor Avenue, instantly shoving his way through the crowd to force his way to the glass front door.

Ben was instantly enveloped in a sea of brilliantly bright white that would even make snow look grey. He couldn’t help but notice the great use of space in the narrow footprint with the white walls and unadorned concrete floors making the space feel bigger than it was. There was a row of concrete-tabletop booths with wooden high backed seated along one wall with small tables lining the center of the dining room to the back with a glass wall separating the stainless steel prep area and an igloo-style, white subway tile covered pizza oven tucked into the corner. 

Against the white was a smattering of green with clean trellises covered in climbing greenery with an eclectic mix of rainbow colored light fixtures over each table and the bar. 

With its clean white lines and modern indie alt-rock playing overhead, the overwhelming millennial feel of it all made Ben’s eye twitch while he scanned the happy faces in the dining room to find the person who was responsible for this monstrosity. 

His eyes went from person to person, expecting to find some stereotypical hipster complete with a beanie, black rimmed glasses and a ironically non-ironic tattoo sleeve spouting off facts about how every fig was farm raised locally when his heart unexpectedly stuttered in his rib cage.

She stood behind the cashier, offering direction on the iPad that was acting as the point of sale system with an impossibly dazzling smile. Her eyes were like molten green and gold with a smattering of freckles across her golden, gleaming skin. She wore her chestnut hair in a low pony tail with a colorful scarf tied around her head in a playful bow with a simple white apron tied around her small waist. 

_Fuck._

Ben shook his head, pulling himself out of the instantaneous reverie he found himself in. Who gave a fuck that she was an impossibly beautiful girl who was literally giving him a run for his money…she was the enemy and needed to be annihilated. 

He pressed forward and shouldered his way to the front of the line and splayed his wide palms to the concrete countertop and leaned over the top of the Square reader and narrowed his eyes. The hazel-eyed goddess lifted her gaze to him with the beginnings of a smile before it melted away at the scorching look in his eye,

“You. Is this blasphemous excuse of a pizzeria yours?”

The poor cashier’s eyes widened and she quickly ducked out of the way, leaving only Ben and this mystery girl. She stood a little taller and lifted an eyebrow as she crossed her arms across her chest. She looked impossibly adorable now that he was up close, with a streak of flour across her cheek and a halo of chestnut baby hairs peeking out from her scarf. 

_No. Focus, Solo. She’s the enemy, remember?_

“That’s right,” she answered back in a crisp British accent that rang out against the white walls like a bell in the night. 

Ben sniffed in a slow breath as he leisurely straightened up from the corner and took another look around, the steady din of the dining room dying down and all eyes landing on the pair of them,

“What do you think you’re playing at, huh? Moving in here and stealing all of my customers?”

She gave him a slight shrug as the ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth,

“It’s just good business. I can’t help it if the good people of Hanna City like it better over here in the light.”

Ben scowled darkly down at her as she stared back unblinkingly, both of them waiting for the other to make the next move,

“You’re not from Domenico’s, are you? I’ve heard the pizza is okay, but their owner is a real asshole…do you know him?”

He pressed his mouth together as his fingers twitched at the tips. Closing them into a tight fist, Be squared his shoulders and drew himself up to his full, considerable height,

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve worked my ass off for that place and it’s been in my family for three generations,”

“Oh, you’ve worked hard, have you, Cupcake? It sounds to me like you inherited it from mommy and daddy like a spoiled little princess and now you’re here to throw a temper tantrum because you’re not getting your way…is that it?”

“Domenico’s is an institution…”

“You mean an aging relic?”

“….that makes an incredible product that people love,” he spun around to take in the baffled faces around the dining room as they slowly chewed their slices of pretentious pizza while they watched the show unfold in front of them. Ben snatched a slice with figs and prosciutto from an unsuspecting patron behind him and waved it around wildly while he continued on his tirade, “I mean…who in the fuck puts fruit on their pizza? This stuff is probably garbage…”

He stuffed the piping hot slice in his wide mouth dramatically, chewing slowly while he glared at her. Ben let out an involuntary low groan as the symphony of flavors washed over his palette and his eyes drifted closed….the holy combination of the sweetness of the figs paired with the saltiness of the meat and the nuanced balance of the crispy to chewy texture of the crust momentarily overpowered his resolve. Swallowing abruptly with a loud cough, he wiped the crumbs from his mouth with his palm and ran his tongue over his teeth,

“Yeah. Exactly what I thought,” he lied, “Total crap.”

The girl stood unwavering in his dark gaze with her arms firmly crossed over her chest and her eyebrow raised,

“Are you finished?”

Ben sheepishly stuffed his large hands in the snug pockets of his dark jeans, looking back at her unblinkingly and offering her a causal shrug,

“Good. Get the hell out.”

His eye twitched while he frustratingly dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before turning abruptly on his heel to be met with Bocce Felice’s lunch crowd…that he’d just thrown a full scale fit in front of.

Glaring darkly at the wide-eyed group of people who were blocking his only exit, Ben scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a slow, deep growl,

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

The throng split in an instant, clearing the way for Ben to storm across the concrete floor and shove open the glass door. He stopped for a split second, turning his gaze back to the dining room whose eyes were still glued on him,

“Enjoy your fruity-ass pizza, motherfuckers!”

 

He tried to keep a low profile after his embarrassing outburst in the middle of the neighboring restaurant, making a point to duck into the kitchen anytime he saw her stride out into the sunlight from the bright façade of Bocca Felice. He most definitely hadn’t been watching her, secretly hoping for a glimpse of her dimpled smile while he racked his brain for a way to take back the mortifying way he acted.

No. No. It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it, especially after she cut him down at the knees by calling him a princess and cupcake, of all things. No. She was the competition. The enemy. It didn’t matter how irresistibly beautiful she was or how his traitorous hands twitched to reach out and card her chestnut hair between his fingers. So what, she was radiant, practically glowing from within…and maybe she was right. Perhaps maybe their menu was old and tired and it was high time to try something new.

 

A few days later, Ben found himself wandering about the early Saturday market like he did every week, milling around in the hustle and bustle of the throng of other shoppers. He bumped shoulders while he wound his way from stall to stall, softly smiling to himself as he drank in the sights and smells like a powerful elixir that freed him from his troubles. Ben thrived on the plucky interactions he had with the booth holders, every single one of them almost like a caricature of what you’d imagine a proprietor of a market stall would be with their overflowing, bubbly friendliness. 

He’d come to this particular market since he was a boy, tagging along after his mother while she did her weekly shopping. The farmers would slip him a strawberry or a fresh piece of homemade sweets when Leia wasn’t looking, offering him a sly wink that thrilled him beyond belief, like he held a special secret. 

As an adult, almost all of them knew him by name and would often tuck things away at the back of their stall that they knew he would buy…and he always would. Ben swam in the heady feeling of it all, enveloped in the air that was perfumed with pristine produce, fresh cut flowers, and the feeling of old cobblestone beneath his boots when he walked through a bright beam of light streaming in from between the blue-tarp lined stalls. 

Immediately lost in a trance, Ben saw her like a fabrication of his imagination, swathed in the morning sun as it bent and moved around her. Rays of distorted light shone through the towers of honey jars on the table next to her, blanketing her in a illustrious halo of golden light. It brought out the flecks of gold amongst the green of her eyes that crinkled at the corners as her face split into a wide, beamingly bright smile. A set of dimples creased in the center of her cheek and Ben couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh when she threw her head back to laugh at something the shop owner had said. 

He watched from two stalls over, absentmindedly picking up a tomato in his palm while his eyes lingered on her, watching as she bent over the table to accept a small, wooden spoon with a measure of honey on the end. 

She brought it to her mouth with a twinkle in her eye, closing her rose petal lips around it. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pulled her bottom lip in with her tongue and teeth as the ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. The act sent Ben’s head spinning, irrationally desperate to know what her lips would feel like against his. 

Her chestnut hair hung in long, loose waves from underneath the ivory hat on her head, obscuring the open back of the wine-colored top she wore but allowing a slight glimpse of her honeyed skin beneath. With a smile, she handed over a handful of cash and deposited a jar of nature’s nectar into the canvas bag hanging from her shoulder with a bundle of lavender peeking out from the top before turning to walk further down the row of stalls. 

She was taller than he realized, with impossibly long legs hugged by a pair of delightfully small jean shorts that hugged the curve of her ass just right. A slight breeze filtered between the stacks of produce, and homemade jams, flittering her ivory cardigan around her waist against the large, colorful bouquet of flowers that were tucked under her arm. 

He felt drawn to her, an unexplainable pull that moved his feet against his will as she stopped at another stall and gingerly lifted a peach to her nose and took a deep breath of the fruit.

The flow of the crowd down the narrow avenue of the shops swirled in its own unseen patterns…patterns that started to carry Ben away from her. He struggled to wade his way though, not ready to give up the sight of her just yet. He stumbled over his feet when a tiny old lady hooked him in the gut with a mammoth tower of Brussels sprouts and he nearly took out an entire stand of freshly baked bread in the process. 

Ben swore loudly as he tried to right himself, shaking the table as he steadied his legs with his palms pressed on a red tablecloth. He found himself momentarily eye to eye with plastic wrapped banana bread and jars of jam that clinked together as he stood up straight once more. He squared his shoulders and lifted his gaze back to hers and let out a strangled, awkward chuckle when his brown eyes met narrowed hazel.

Her carefree look had melted into one of disdain as she glared at him from across the packed walkway. Giving a slight shake to her head, she turned on the heel of her converses and walked out into the sunlight.

Shouldering his way through the throng, Ben murmured hurried apologies as he haphazardly shoved unsuspecting market-goers out of the way to catch up to her. She was faster, sliding easily between the swarm of tourists entering the market to a waiting cluster of bicycles. He reached her as she lifted her hand to pull the bag from her shoulder to deposit into a large wicker basket that was mounted above the back tire, caging his fingers around her wrist to try and get her attention,

“Hey, wait up!”

“Get off!” she ripped her arm from his grip and burned an exasperated glare that he felt in his bones, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her sneakered toe on the pavement, “Are you following me or something?” 

Ben took an unsteady step back and threw up his palms with a baffled smile,

“I…uh…no. I mean…sort of, but not like, in a creepy way or anything. I just wanted to apologize…for before…”

She gave him a hard stare with a raised eyebrow,

“You mean when you threw a tantrum in the middle of my lunch rush?”

“Uh…yeah. I was having trouble expressing my frustrations…” he mumbled, toeing the cobblestone with the tip of his boot.

“Your frustrations that I’m experiencing some success? It clear you don’t share well. Maybe you should go back to Reception Base and learn how to properly share your toys.”

“What? Speak English.”

“I am, you fuckwit.”

Ben closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, silently begging himself to keep his fucking cool for once. He settled his nerves and slowly opened his eyes and chewed his lip while he shoved his oversized hands into his pockets,

“My point is…I’m sorry for blowing things out of proportion, but,”

“There’s a ‘but’? You’re off to such a wonderful start,” she rolled her eyes, moving to secure her bouquet of flowers in the wicker basket between the handlebars of her bike. She stood back up and planted her hands on her hips, “By all means, do go on. I can’t see how this can get any worse…”

“I just don’t understand how someone can put fruit on a pizza. Where in the hell did you learn to cook?”

“Naples.”

“Italy??”

“The one and only.”

Ben gaped at her, open-mouthed as he mulled over her words,

“Wha…you…you learned to cook in the _literal_ birthplace of pizza and you _still_ choose to bastardize it? How _dare_ you?”

She shrugged and gave him the slyest of smiles,

“What can I say? I’m the kind of girl who like to learn the rules and then _break them_. Besides, you seemed to remember a little moan escaping that mouth when you tasted it…don’t deny that you enjoyed it…didn’t you, Cupcake?”

“That.” Ben fumed, pointing a finger at her with a deep scowl as he took a solid step towards her, “Isn’t the point.”

She was completely unfazed by his contentious demeanor, closing the space between them to get as equally in his face as Ben was in hers, looking up at him a saucy glint in her eye,

“And what…pray tell, is the point, Mister…”

Ben swallowed thickly as the wind shifted, stirring the strands of her hair around her shoulders and the smell of her shampoo assaulted his senses. Space. He needed space in order to think clearly or this girl was going to get in his head. He shuffled backwards a bit to put a few blessed inches between them so he wouldn’t risk her feeling his heart beating through his chest. 

_Think. Think of something to say. What was your fucking point? Your name. She asked your fucking name, dipshit._

“Solo,” he let out a strangled cough, “Ben Solo.”

The ghost of a smile curled around the edge of her mouth as she blinked up slowly at him,

“Ben,” she hummed, slowly savoring each letter like a delicacy, letting the ‘b’ at the start hover between her lips like local honey on a spoon, only letting the other letters loose from her mouth once she’d fully reveled in the taste of it. Stepping closer to eliminate the gap he created, she looked up at him through her lashes with a coy smile as she tapped a single finger to his chest, “I think that you can’t handle the idea that my pizza is just…better than yours.”

Ben didn’t have the faintest idea of what was happening between him and this girl, both amused and befuddled but he decided he was going to play her game. He leaned his head down to bring his eyes level with hers, close enough that he could feel her honey-tainted breath upon his face,

“No.”

Her breath hitched softly as his own fluttered the baby hairs peeking out from under her hat, brows disappearing underneath it as she stubbornly sighed, unrelenting to give up the upper hand of the strange dance of the wills they’d entered into,

“I’d be happy to prove it to you.”

Ben let out a playful chuckle as he shook his head before leaning closer to her. He watched her eyes grow wider as he drew closer before bypassing her cheek to bring his mouth a hair’s breath away from her ear,

“Name the time and place, princess.”

A cocky smile pulled at his lips as he stepped back on the cobblestone, enjoying the baffled look on her face a little more than he should have. She wobbled on her feet for a split second, placing her palm on the handle bar of her bicycle to steady herself. He offered a wave and a chuckle, reaching up to card his fingers through his longish dark hair as he turned on his heel to walk away.


	2. Sorry, Not Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be a lie to say that her interaction in the market had gone exactly how she thought it would…when he careened in to one of the stalls, nearly knocking over a table of breads, jams and jellies in the process. Rey’s astonishment at seeing him there quickly melted away at first sight of the adorably pathetic puppy-dog look on his face as he tried to right himself like a lost bull in a china shop. The feeling rapidly faded away when the memory of him pitching a fit in the middle of her lunch rush only a few days before. 
> 
> Alone time. Delightfully awkward introductions and throw downs.

Rey Niima pressed her head against the back of her door with a deep sigh, letting her parcels fall at her feet with a loud _thunk_. What in the hell had just happened between her and Mr. Asshole Domenico at the farmer’s market of all places?

She prided herself on being a professional person, a prime example of what a business owner should be, especially at her age. To be twenty-six years old and have a highly successful restaurant in the heart of Hanna City was more than any young chef to dream of. To lose her senses because of this…this douche-canoe not once, but twice was more than Rey could wrap her head around. 

It would be a lie to say that her interaction in the market had gone exactly how she thought it would…when he careened in to one of the stalls, nearly knocking over a table of breads, jams and jellies in the process. Rey’s astonishment at seeing him there quickly melted away at first sight of the adorably pathetic puppy-dog look on his face as he tried to right himself like a lost bull in a china shop. The feeling rapidly faded away when the memory of him pitching a fit in the middle of her lunch rush only a few days before. 

Rey had never felt so mortified in her entire life, not only because of how he acted, but how unprofessional she was in return. Something about him, his demeanor, or the way his long fingers curled into his palm or the way he did that unexplainable thing with his mouth, made her head go fuzzy and all her senses lost to the wind. 

She toed off her turquoise converses and padded into her cozy studio that was tucked at the top the stairs in the back of Bocca Felice. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Tossing her keys into a small glass bowl on the countertop, Rey bent down to gather her treasures from the market and stepped to the right of the apartment’s door into the tiny kitchen. It had the necessities, upgraded when she took over the building to fit her needs from a stainless steel refrigerator and a gas stove that Rey felt was worth every single inch of the extra square footage it took up in the small space. 

She reached into her canvas bag and pulled the jar of local honey she’d purchased at the market, reaching up to tuck it lovingly onto one of the open shelves that lined the exposed brick on the far wall. 

Turning on her heel, Rey ducked to the lower cabinet of the countertop behind her and pulled out a blue glass vase. She removed the wooden cutting board from over the sink, filling the glittering vase halfway with water before unwrapping her bouquet of flowers and placing them inside. 

Rey pressed her nose into the gathering of yellow tulips with a smile, relishing in the feeling of the soft petals against her skin. Her slowly fluttered shut as she inhaled them deeply, her heart fluttering in her chest as she saw a pair of intense, deep, dark down eyes in her mind. 

No. No. She had to stop now. There was no way in hell that she was going to risk her career over a pair of pretty eyes. 

Rey pressed her palms against the cool granite of the countertop, pivoting around the end of the short line of cabinetry to fling herself on her bed only steps away. She covered her eyes with her arms with a frustrated groan, reaching out to pull a ribbon of her chestnut hair through her fingers. 

It wasn’t like he was _that_ good looking. No, definitely not. Especially with his strong dark brow with those dark eyes peering out from beneath dark lashes, a gloriously aquiline nose and a face peppered with a constellation of beauty marks like a dark sky full of stars. No. He wasn’t impossibly good looking, not to her…especially when she pressed her finger against the hard plains of his chest that sent her head into a tizzy…or when he pressed that expanse of firm, corded muscle against her as he growled in her ear. 

Rey shifted her eyes around the room, trying to find anything to distract her from the feeling of his hot breath skimming over the soft skin of her ear. She looked to the window to see if she could find a diversion amongst the hanging glass orbs terrariums with tiny air plants inside, trying her hardest to focus on the gleaming strands of morning light as they filtered in glittering beams through the window. 

No matter how she tried moving her focus from object to object in the cozy studio, from the hanging English ivy in the corner, to the vintage wooden fireplace at the foot of her white-linen bed that accentuated the exposed brick behind it, Rey’s mind kept drifting over and over back to him. 

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip with a deep sigh, her eyes instinctively sliding shut as her thoughts drifted back to the feeling of his long fingers closed around her wrist and the way her skin burned deliciously when he removed his hand. Or the way his breath fluttered the baby hairs around her face as she helpless was drawn into the amber swirls tucked into the deep brown of his eyes. 

_You need to get laid. Two years without sex is unhealthy. Take a night off once in a while you damn workaholic._

She didn’t even know the kriffing guy…her personal drought had to be the reason for this sudden…whatever this was, but Rey couldn’t ignore the molten heat that had been pooled deep in her belly since the moment he practically had his body pressed against hers. The feeling coiled inside her, completely unshakable no matter how much she tried. 

Reaching up, Rey traced the tips of her fingers over her Cupid’s bow while her mind raced to places it shouldn’t go, losing herself to the delirious daydream with a quiet hum as she imagined what his utterly kissable lips would feel like up against hers and in…other places. 

The tension inside her built and burned, begging for release before she’d spontaneously combust. Rey dipped her fingers into her mouth and quickly flipped open the button of her jeans shorts in a single fluid motion, venturing her hand beneath the open waistband. 

Meandering her fingers across the soft nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, Rey’s breath hitched as she dragged her fingertips between the silky, slickness of her sex. Holy shit, she was so wet already…he didn’t do this to her, right? She was just impossibly horny and sex-starved. Yes. That had to be it. He was a childish douche canoe who threw a literal temper tantrum in the middle of her restaurant. He was most certainly _NOT_ a tall fucking drink of water with impossibly large hands and long fingers. There was no way that she was thinking of what his hand would feel like pressed against her skin, or wondering what that gloriously perfect Roman nose would feel like around her clit. She pressed her fingers down to swirl firm circles around the tiny bundle of nerves, sending an effortless frisson of pleasure ricocheting across every inch of her skin. No, it was definitely not the thought of him that made her feel this way, not at all. 

Rey pressed her thighs together as she groaned into her pillow, relentless in the scorching pressure she circled around her clit, chasing her orgasm as fast as she could but found it continuously out of reach. More. She needed more. Him. _NO._ She pressed her lips together with a frustrated sigh. No, it wasn’t him. Well. Maybe it was. 

Rey surrendered to the thought, imagining his plush mouth peppering a long line of scorching kisses across every inch of her freckled skin. For a fleeting moment, she hesitated, her eyelashes fluttering open as her hand stilled against her slick core. She should feel some sort of shame, shouldn’t she? Thinking of this complete stranger in such an explicit way? The thought was fleeting as she shrugged with a wicked grin. What was the harm? It’s not like he would find out, anyway.

Rey pressed further down towards her core, following the lead of each and every filthy thought, imagining with a thrill all the things that she wished Ben was doing to her. She slid a single finger past her entrance with an airy gasp as she slowly curled it up and back out. What would he feel like with his absurdly large hands and large fingers. There was one way she could get an idea….

Letting out a trembling breath, Rey dipped a second finger inside her core, curling them upwards while her body hopelessly bucked and squirmed at the sensation as she surged her palm against her clit with each drag of her fingers against her g-spot. She rolled to her side, squeezing her thighs together as she moaned into her pillow, relentless in chasing her orgasm with each pulsing surge into herself. 

Her mind wandered with every beckoning motion of her fingers, consuming her in a fiery coil of pleasure that grew tighter and tighter as she raced towards her peak. His lips on her throat, the nibble of his teeth on her earlobe, forcefully pressing her against the wall as he claimed every inch of her with _that mouth_. Rey’s body quivered, sending a mournful keen tumbling from her lips as she imagined him peeling the jeans from the curve of her ass and throwing her onto the countertop of her tiny kitchen. He’d palm her ass with his long fingers before pressing into her entrance with his cock, relentlessly thrusting into her as he fucked her with the wild abandoned she craved, sending the blue vase of yellow tulips crashing to the floor.

In her mind, the glass vase shattered to pieces and Rey came apart with it, moaning loudly into the bright open air of her tiny studio, helplessly lost in her trance as his name tumbled over her lips,

“Ben.”

 

A few days later, Rey anxiously stood inside the safety of Bocca Felice, looking out past the hand-painted lettering on the glass door to the dark brick façade of Domenico’s Pizzeria across the cobblestone street. She had a flyer tucked against her chest with all the details for their throw-down she’d organized, eager to see him some more…to push the envelope just a little further. So what if there was a little heathy competition in the mix? 

Rey knew that she’d need to step into his shop to bring him said flyer and tell him what was in store for him this upcoming weekend but she remained rooted to the spot, bashfully aware of the pink tinge that flooded her cheeks when she thought of seeing him face to face since the last time she saw him in person at the farmers market. 

She let out a soft gasp at the memory of his fingers on her skin and his hot breath on her ear….the delicious way the hard, corded muscle of his chest felt up against hers….not to mention the bewildering feeling of distress she felt of being in his presence again after the countless times she’d shamelessly and enthusiastically satiated her ravenous craving for the feeling of him inside her over and over and over again…and then some more after that. 

Her cunt throbbed between her thighs as she chewed on her bottom lip, recalling how just a couple hours before, her shower head acted as his mouth, relentless as she smothered her cries against the subway tile in the tiny shower.

_No no no no no. Get ahold of yourself. Just go deliver the fucking flyer and refresh your memory that he is NOT as good looking at you think he is._

That was a fucking lie and Rey knew it as soon as she saw him through the glass window of Domenico’s while she crossed the cobblestone street, silently begging her feet not to fail her and make her face plant like an incompetent idiot in the middle of the road. 

She curled her fingers around the metal handle and pulled the door open with a _ding_ and Rey blinked in the sudden darkness she found herself swathed in. As her eyes adjusted, Rey could see that Domenico’s was a textbook example of an old school pizzeria with the red and white checkered tablecloths and stout, raffia wrapped Chianti bottles for candle holders on each table. Rey let out a whoosh of breath from her cheeks…these guys really were old fashioned, it wasn’t just their pies. 

It was still early in the day, so the dining room was quiet and mostly empty as she wound her way through the tables to the bar, capturing her lip between her teeth when her eyes met his. 

Ben crossed his impossibly thick arms over his broad chest as a hint of an amused smile pulled at the corner of his utterly kissable mouth. Rey swallowed thickly when her eyes helplessly drifted for a split second to see how his navy tee struggled to hold him in while it strained and stretched over his flexed muscles. Clearing her throat, Rey stepped up closer to the mahogany bar and looked up to meet his eyes. His dark brow climbed into his hairline as he loosed a lighthearted chuckle that rumbled deep inside his chest like distant thunder,

“Ah, the Princess of Pizza has graced us with her presence. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“I have a name, you know.”

“You do?” Ben’s grin grew wider as Rey planted her hands on her hips with a deepening frown, “Ah, you do…I’d love to learn it one of these days.”

“I’m sure you would, Cupcake.”

“Ben, actually.”

“Right. My apologies,” Rey mused, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was fun pretending that she didn’t know his name even though she’d whimpered it a countless amount of times into her pillow since that day at the farmers market, but that was neither here nor there. There was a point to her visit. She needed to get to it and stop getting distracted by the Greek god smirking at her from behind the bar and how she’d like him to bend her over it and do things to her that would make the county health inspector close their doors for good. 

Rey cleared her throat and prayed that he couldn’t see the flush rise in her cheeks that had been triggered by the filthy thoughts that wouldn’t just _shut the fuck up_ ,

“I…uh, actually have something for you.”

“A present? You shouldn’t have, Princess,” Ben grinned wickedly, causing Rey’s stomach to drop to her feet. It was like he _fucking knew_. Gods, what if he had seen or heard her. Had she left the windows open? Fucking fuck. 

Rey blinked rapidly in the shadow of his surprisingly dazzling smile and the way his face curved around it. Focus. Think. Breathe. He’s not _that_ good looking,

“Here,” Rey slapped the flyer down on the dark bar top, “We’re having a throw down.”

“A throw down?” Ben mused, his dark eyes twinkling as they flitted back and forth between hers, “That sounds like an adventure. Who’s throwing who and where?”

“Just read it, you nerfherder,” Rey tugged on her lip with her tongue while he flipped the flyer around to face him and read. He had a point…she wouldn’t really mind it if he threw her over the bar…or a wall…or a window. She wasn’t picky as long as it was with him….

“Fifty fucking percent off???”

“Just off of whole pies…”

“Like you haven’t make me go broke already…Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Listen,” Rey pressed, laying her palms against the wood on either side of his hands that were splayed out on either side of the flyer, “You may not realize it, but I’m doing this to help you.”

“Yeah, I’m really goddamned sure you are,” Ben groused darkly.

“Really, I am. I understand that we’ve been having some…beginner’s luck with our sales-“

“-leeching customers away from us…”

“…but I thought that this would help bring some attention back to Domenico’s, you know, like a team. I was hoping we could find some sort of balance between your old fashioned-“

“You mean, out of date…”

“Quiet and let me finish. I was hoping we could find a balance between the past and the future.”

“Balance,” Ben hummed, pressing the seam of his plush mouth together before lifting his eyes to hers with a wicked glint, “I don’t even know you and you’re already talking about the future…”

“Shut up. I’ll see you Saturday. Be prepared to lose, old man,” she laughed. Ben looked down at her and hovered a little too closely to her face and certainly at a complete disregard for her personal space. Her heart thudded in her chest as he hovered ever-closer to her face like he was counting each freckle on her nose. Rey tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes darted back and forth between his as his face melted into a crooked grin. Gods. She was really helpless against that fucking smile. 

Ben’s smile faded as his amber eyes burned into hers. He leaned forward and lifted his long fingers to softly tuck a stray strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear, 

“Okay, bye!” Rey, stuttered, stumbling backwards in her turquoise converses as she put some much needed space between them. Damnit, her kriffing mind was running away from her again…

_Get ahold of yourself, Niima._

“Hey, wait!” Ben interjected just as Rey had her back pressed against the glass door that led back outside into the sunlight. She stopped in her tracks and lifted her eyes to the man who was decidedly _MORE_ good looking than what her imagination suggested. Rey held her breath as she watched him jog around the end of the bar like some sort of dark Prince Charming chasing after his Cinderella. She let out the softest sigh as he stepped closer to her, pressing _that mouth_ into a thin line as he chewed on his lip,

“Y-yes?” Rey whispered, her palms hovering against the sun-warmed pane of glass at her back,

“Your name,” Ben rumbled, gliding ever-closer as his golden swirls of amber burned into her gold-speckled hazel.

“What about it?”

“I mean,” he shrugged playfully as the same lopsided smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, “I can keep calling you Princess if you really want me to…”

_You can call me whatever you want…_

“Rey,” she breathed, barely above a whisper as she held out her hand by way of officially greeting him at long last. His dark eyes glanced down at her hand that kept the space firmly between them before sweeping it up in his unbelievably long fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze,

“Rey,” Ben murmured deeply, the sound of her name lingering in his throat sending an electrifying shiver down her spine as he savored each letter that passed over his utterly-kissable lips, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” His eyes twinkled and Rey was completely breathless while she watched him lift her hand to his lips, pressing a heated kiss that lingered for a delectable moment longer than it should have. Rey lost herself in the feeling, barely able to breath while his eyes bored into hers. 

No matter how badly she wanted to and how much her traitorous inner sex goddess encouraged her, Rey slowly leaned away until the door at her back gave way and she practically tumbled out into the cobblestone street,

“I…uh…bye! See you Saturday!”

Rey stepped out into the sunlight, practically running away from Domenico’s into the safety of Bocca Felice. She swore she could feel him laughing as she narrowly missed a taxi blazing down the street, blaring its horn at her in the process. 

Fuck. She was going to get herself killed if she didn’t get her head out of her cunt and back into the real world.

Rey remained deliriously distracted for the rest of the week, every stray thought going back to the feeling of his hot mouth against her flesh at every chance it could get. Time after time, there was only one cure to bring her back to reality and every time, Rey was happy to answer the call and the delicious images it would trigger in her mind. 

The days went by quickly and soon, Rey found herself too consumed in the upcoming event to allow herself a stray moment to think of Ben’s mouth wantonly exploring every inch of her body.

Early Saturday morning, Rey woke up with the sun as delicate beams drifted in through her window. She showered quickly and tied her hair up in a low ponytail with a floral scarf tied in a playful bow at the top of her head. She looked in the mirror with a smile, tugging the bow ever so slightly to the right with her fingers before reaching down to straighten the black off the shoulder top. It deliciously hugged the slender toned muscle of her arms and left a peek of just the right amount of skin at her torso above the olive green waistband of her jeans. 

Was a little too flirty for a pizza-making contest? Maybe. Did Rey care? Not in the slightest. 

She tugged on a pair of black converses and slid her arms through the sleeves of a jean jacket before bounding out the door and down the stairs into the empty Bocce Felice. 

The morning began to fly by after Rey swung by the coffee shop on the corner. She stood on the corner of the block, casually sipping her coffee as the event director supervised the setting up of sound equipment and portable pizza ovens under a large tent where she and Ben would be doing their throw down in just a few short hours. 

“Hey,” someone mumbled, casually bumping her shoulder with their own. Rey had been so absorbed in her silent observation of the set up that she practically jumped out of her skin and sent her sunglasses askew on her nose. She wobbled slightly before righting the black frames on her face, glaring up to see the one responsible only to meet the be-speckled face of one, Ben Solo, grinning down at her,

“Fucking hell, man! I swear, you’re like a bloody bull in a china shop! Use your words next time…”

“I did use my words, Princess. Not my fault you were lost somewhere in the clouds…”

“Rey.”

“Right,” he loosed a boyish chuckle, “Rey. Sorry, your highnessness…So.”

“So?”

“Rumor has it that you’re going to lose your crown today…” he mumbled, taking a sip from his own paper cup. 

“Oh really? I heard that you’re handing yours over _permanently_.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, the sound reverberating deep in his broad chest, “That so?”

“Well,” Rey shrugged with a sly grin, “You know how the rumor mill goes.”

“What does the winner get?” Ben pressed, sliding just a hair closer to her on the cobblestone sidewalk,

“I dunno…bragging rights?” Rey mused. If she was honest, she hadn’t really thought about it other than the idea that she would have the ability to see and think about Ben Solo in another way that _didn’t_ involve her masturbating more times in a day than what the healthy limit probably was. A lightbulb went off in her mind and a smile spread gleefully across her face, “How about…loser makes pizza the winner’s way. No complaining. Just open-minded learning.”

“Learning…you sound awfully confident, Sweetheart, like you’re the one who’s going to be teaching me….”

“Confidence is the key, Mr. Solo,” Rey purred playfully, lifting her hand to wave at a smiling face across the street before stepping off the curb into the the fray of the set up. She stepped backwards on the balls of her feet with a beamingly bright grin, “I think we both have a few tricks up our sleeves. I, for one, am _more_ than willing to be an _excellent_ student.”

Rey laughed to herself while she watched his Adam’s apple bob along the long line of his throat, smiling from ear to ear at the thought that maybe…just maybe, she might be having a similar effect on him as he was on her. 

The time began to tick by faster as the sun rose higher in the sky and Rey was thrilled to see the crowd getting thicker by the second and the traditional Italian music get turned up louder to keep up with the din of the throng. 

She stood shoulder to shoulder with one of her oldest friends, Poe Dameron as she looked out over the churning mass of people, all hungry for piping hot slices of pizza, thrilled that she was able to get the city to close the block for a few hours while they held the event.

Everything was in place, hot racks of fresh pizza for the locals and all the supplies that she and Ben would need as their perspective tables under the tent that they’d construct the pies for their carefully selected judges of the borough’s most respected food authorities,

“This is quite the shindig you’ve set up, kid,” Poe grinned, pressing his shoulder into hers with a wink as she met his smile with an easy one of her own, “All this is to settle a grudge? Doesn’t it seem like…a bit much?”

“It’s necessary.”

“Mmhmm, I’m so sure. What happens if you lose?”

“What makes you so sure that I will?” Rey pressed, the ghost of a frown hovering between her dark eyebrows,

“I mean…this is all for a cute boy…I’m not convinced that you won’t let the poor guy win just to be nice,” Poe chuckled with a nod at the serious expression Ben wore across the street, “I can’t blame you…maybe it’ll get the tough guy to crack a smile.”

“I’ve seen him smile…”

“Have you now? Rey! You saucy minx…”

“You shut up, it’s not like that. I barely know the guy…” Rey blushed, toeing her converse against the cobblestone.

“That’s how they all start, kiddo,” Poe teased.

“Besides. You know me. I love to win. There’s no way I’m going to let that overgrown puppy dog take the top spot.”

Poe shook his head with his signature, beaming smile, lifting his wrist to check his watch,

“Ah, that’s my cue, Sweets. You better go get those whites on,” he turned on his heel to accept the live microphone from the sound guy and lifted it to his mouth with an even wider grin, “Alright, Hanna City! It’s time to get this party started! Who’s ready for some world-class pizza?” 

Rey shook her head with a grin as the crowd went wild, stepping over the river of taped-down wires to the tent where Ben was already ready and waiting in the welcome shade from the late-May sun. She shrugged off her denim jacket and couldn’t help but notice how her competition’s eyes lingers on the freckled curve of her shoulder before clearing his throat loudly and holding up her chef whites for her. She slid her arms into the smooth, cotton sleeves and delighted in the thrill of the feeling his fingers left as they lingered on her shoulders.

She casually buttoned up the double-breasted coat and cuffed the starched sleeves before turning on her heel to face his serious, burning gaze,

“I didn’t know you were a trained chef.”

“You never asked,” Rey shrugged, drawing the starched white apron around her narrow waist, lifting her eyes to Poe as he continued to hype up the packed street of partygoers, “It’s almost time…are you ready to lose?” Rey smiled out at the crowd with a smile as Poe introduced her,

“You sound so sure. What will my consolation prize be?”

“I’ll cook for you.”

“Dessert?”

Rey chewed her lip with a sly grin, 

“I’m not a pastry chef, but I might be able to figure out a third course for you…”

With a crack of her knuckles and a girlish giggle, Rey faced the waiting pizza dough at her table that was side-by-side with Ben’s as a whistle blared out over the steady din of the jam packed block that proceeded to go while as Rey immediately dusted her palms in a cloud of flour. 

She lost herself in the steady rhythm as she rolled out her crust paper thin, the motion of the rolling pin like waves on the shore with each pass over the elastic dough. Wiping her cheek with her flour-covered knuckle, Rey’s gaze was drawn to Ben and found herself instantaneously drawn in to the movement of his tree-trunk sized arms. 

Rey drew her tongue over her lip as Ben elegantly and effortlessly tossed the dough in the air time after time, stretching it with each pass with the broad plains of his knuckles. His dark eyes were laser-focused on the task at hand, only flittering to hers for a split second, making a sly grin spread out onto his beauty marked dusted face. Rey instantly knew what he was doing as he started a slow sway of his hips to the music, tossing the dough in perfect synchronicity with the music and his ass that looked more perfect than should have been allowed in his dark jeans. 

Rey couldn’t help but wonder as she watched him move to the song with his dark smile…if he was this smooth with his hands and his hips…what _else_ could he do? 

“Earth to Chef Niima at the Bocca Felice table,” Rey jumped as Poe shamelessly called her out over the loud speaker, “Eyes on your own crust, chef,” her friend winked as a deep scarlet blush crept up on her cheeks. Rey busied herself with her figs and prosciutto and swore that she heard a boyish chuckle come from the table beside her. She lifted her eyes for a split second to see the easy smiled creased into Ben’s face. She frowned deeply and mercilessly chucked a slice of fig at his head,

“Laugh it up, Fuzzball!”

Ben’s mouth hung open in feigned offense, lifted the piece of pink and green fruit up with the very tips of his fingers before flinging it back at her,

“Keep your dirty, blasphemous ingredients on your own table, Princess.”

“Get a hairnet.”

“Get one yourself.”

Rey couldn’t help but feel herself relax as she watched his lips lift upward, crinkling the edges of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. The way his teeth were perfectly imperfect, only adding fuel to her fire as she basked in the warm glow their easy and unexpected camaraderie gave. She didn’t expect it, but his smile was like a ray of sunshine and Rey found herself completely sweltered in its glow. 

She covered the spout of a dark bottle of extra virgin olive oil with her finger, lifting it to elegantly drizzle a ribbon of oil in swirling circles across the rolled out crust. Replacing the lid, Rey lifted her oil-covered finger and spread the leftover liquid gold across her bottom lip, pressing them together while she shifted her eyes to his for a split second. Suppressing a giggle, Rey’s inner goddess boasted with a devilish grin when she watched him swallow thickly. That’s two today. 

Turning her attention to her cutting board, Rey glided her gleaming knife through a ripe pear, making paper-thin slices one after the other. After a few moments, she had all her ingredients easily diced, minced, stemmed and quartered. 

Like constructing a precious work of art, Rey lovingly placed the slices of tart and sweet fruit and salty prosciutto on the waiting crust, topping it off with crumbles of goat cheese and a sprinkle of salt and pepper.

Curling her fingers around the long handle of the wooden pizza paddle, Rey lifted the uncooked pie and turned to the pair of blazing hot pizza ovens that were waiting for them. By happenstance, Ben finished at the same exact time, feigning an annoyed look as they silently and playfully danced back and forth over who would put their pie in first,

“Age before beauty, please,” Rey mused, a bell-like giggle hovering on the tip of her tongue.

“Ladies first. Really.”

“How about, we just go at the same time?”

“If you insist, Sweetheart.”

Rey shook her head with a soft smile, sliding the paddle into the half-moon opening of the glowing oven, shirking the uncooked pizza off the wooden surface with a quick flick of her wrist. Tucking the paddle under her arm, she bent down to peer into the oven, happily watching as the crust began to instantly brown at the edges and the prosciutto began to bubble,

“This is my favorite part. It’s so hot, the pizza cooks in a flash…” she mused, caging her lip between her teeth as she excitedly waited for the precise moment to take it out,

“About a minute. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Such a beautiful and simple thing.”

“I know we didn’t get the best start…”

“I didn’t exactly make a great first impression. I’m sorry…” Ben pressed his mouth together in a firm line, his warm amber eyes aglow from the burning fire inside the over.

“I forgive you. Really. It’s not your fault you’re a giant man-baby.”

Ben guffawed loudly, rolling his eyes with a dark smirk,

“Careful, Sweetheart…”

“Or what?” Rey pressed, positively shameless in her flirtation. She couldn’t help it…not with that smile…that hair…that body…everything she’d imagined in her mind standing shoulder to shoulder with her. 

“We don’t have time for that now,” he leaned in closer to her, growling darkly in her ear.

Rey’s stomach fluttered when her eyes met his burning gaze, darting her tongue over the seam of her mouth as a soft gasp tumbled over her lips into the air between them. Blinking rapidly, she turned her attention back to the pizza in the oven, lifting the paddle to remove it before it became overdone. 

Her breath hitched in her throat when she felt one of his arms twist around her waist and his long fingers cage around her hand on the paddle. Completely breathless with his body pressed against hers, Rey was terrified she might melt into a puddle right then and there,

“Just wait. Give it a few more seconds,” he breathed into her ear,

“It’s done. I need to take it out,” Rey murmured, eying the edges of her perfect crust in the flickering firelight,

“No. Trust me. A little love….” Ben paused, squeezing the thick muscle of his arm more firmly around her waist before pushing her hand with the paddle forward to slide under the pizza, “A little Skywalker family secret for you, sweetheart. Love in every slice.”

Ben relaxed his sturdy and sanguine grip from around her to reach for his own paddle, giving it a cocky spin and flourish with a flick of his wrist like he was some master swordsman instead of a cook. Rey sighed softly. It slipped out of her mouth and into the early summer wind with the dart of her tongue over her lip before she helplessly captured it between her teeth, the sound of it nearly lost against the steady din of the crowd. 

Her muscles ached from where his touch had been, hungry for more of the momentary, yet delectable, body contact that she had serendipitously been able to behold. She had been thinking that this was all in her head these last few days, touch-starved and voracious with need that needed satiated in any way she could. But, with the lopsided grin he offered her as he adeptly lifted his own pizza from the oven, Rey felt herself on the precipice of something so new and bold…simultaneously crazy and wonderful…It was a relief to know that perhaps, it hadn’t been a figment of her imagination and her desire came from the source…from him… Rey was suddenly awake to see the new colors that the dawn would bring, what else could she do but jump?

Rey stood wordlessly with the weight of the pizza at the end of her paddle bobbing slightly in her palms. Completely lost in thought, she watched the curve of his muscled shoulders bend and move with each motion of the pizza cutter he wielded as it crackled through the piping-hot crust on the his board. 

“Sixty-seconds remaining for our competitors! It looks to me like Domenico’s is in the lead, will Bocca Felice be done in time?” 

Poe’s voice over the loud speaker yanked her abruptly from the daze she’d trapped herself in, blinking rapidly to meet his gaze. Her old friend’s brows pressed together with confusion in his dark eyes, silently mouthing, _What the fuck are you doing? HURRY._

Rey found herself revitalized and rejuvenated, pulled back into the present as she stepped forward to her waiting table and slapped the wooden paddle down,

“I see how it is,” she groused, cranking her cutter through the piping-hot pie by pure instinct. Ben’s mouth curled up at the edges in amusement while he pulled a white towel through his absurdly large hands though a white towel as his facetious grin grew wider,

“How what is, Princess?”

“Trying to distract me. It won’t work.”

“I think it already has, hasn’t it?” he rumbled with the ghost of a laugh lingering in his chest.

“Not at all. What makes you think that?”

“Thirty seconds!” Poe’s voice rang out between them, sending the crowd into a wild frenzy. 

“You’re on fire,” Ben nodded at her casually, leaning against the table with his finished pizza with a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Rey flinched, jumping away from the oven as her brain went into emergency overload while her hands ran across every inch of her body until a chorus of boyish giggles rang out in the tent.

Rey stood frozen as she watched Ben, in the middle of his fit of giggles, letting her frustration stew for only a moment before snatching a ripe tomato from his station to chuck directly at his head,

“Wanker!”

Ben dodged the flying pierce of fruit like it was pure instinct, his dark hair shifting ever so slightly over his eyes as he bent his head out of the way, but wasn’t so lucky when she quickly pummeled him in the temple with a second, ruby-red round of ammunition. He wore loudly, his laughter still hanging on at the edges of his eyes,

“I got you though, admit it,” Ben’s giggles waned into a deep hum as he tried to pick the bits of ripe fruit from his raven curls, “You know that wasting ingredients is bad for business…do you have any idea how much these tomatoes cost me?” 

Rey plastered a beamingly bright smile across her face as Poe called the time over the loud speaker, raising her hand to wave at the churning throng of partygoers, 

“You act like I care…” Rey hissed through gritted teeth, widening her smile as the judges came forward to each grab a slice of each of their waiting pies,

“You should, Princess. Those came from your kitchen,” he laughed quietly, shuffling sideways to bring their shoulders together and nodding towards the group of elderly from the neighborhood chatting animatedly over the pizza just a few steps away, “What do you think they’re saying? Maybe you should have put prunes on your pie instead of figs, could’ve given you some extra points with the old folks. Maybe you should slip one of them your phone number.”

“Fucking twat. Why would I?”

“You never know, really. One of them might be loaded and could get you franchised.”

Rey’s eye twitched as she lifted her eyes to meet his, glinting with an air of facetiousness. He was far too amused, and certainly more good looking than should have been legally allowed. She needed space between them, and quick before she’d do something she’d regret,

“You’d better shove off and get out before I break your face,”

“No,” Ben shrugged, hovering just a little closer with a cocky smile pulling at his infuriatingly plush lips, “If you were half as angry as you pretend to be, Rey, I’m sure I’d have black eye instead of bits of tomato in my hair. Get a grip, really. You’re so wound tight, it’s really no wonder why,”

“Why’s that?”

He leaned down, letting the curtain of his dark hair brush the rounded curve of her hair just so. The heady combination with the tickle his hot breath sent an electrifying shiver down to the tips of her fingers,

“You’re hungry. Starving. It’s the look in your eye, I can read you like a fucking book, Princess.”

“I-I mean…it _is_ lunchtime…”

“I didn’t mean for food, Sweetheart,” he growled darkly into her ear. 

Rey felt the searing blush rise in her cheeks, searing under her freckles like she was suddenly on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, even coy with him so close, and so suddenly aware of their heated connection that was certainly _NOT_ just her imagination. The warm swirls of amber amongst the deep brown glimmered as Ben’s gaze burned into hers and Rey found herself completely entrapped by them, unable to tear her eyes away.

The world around them faded to a blur as the pair of them remained ensnared in that split moment, the time crawling along as gold-speckled hazel searched honey-bourbon and Rey couldn’t help but want to entwine her fingers into his hair and pull his mouth down to meet hers in what was sure to be a delectable clash of tongues and teeth. 

They remained hovered close together and before she knew it, Rey found her fingers making contact against his chest, soaking up the heat that radiated from him with every beat of his heart. 

“Hanna City, it looks like we have a winner!”

Poe’s voice blared out over the loud speaker, abruptly jolting them from the brief, stolen moment. Rey forcefully pushed Ben back with her palm that she’d found resting on his chest, sending him stumbling back and nearly losing his balance over a crate of figs. 

Tearing her fingers at her double-breasted chef’s coat, Rey flipped the buttons open with a flick over her thumb before pulling the heavy cotton jacket down her arms to lay gingerly at her station. She tugged at the flexible fabric of her dark shirt around the bottom half of her shoulders and straightened the neckline that skirted along the freckled flesh below her collar bones. 

With a single fluid motion, Rey hooked her forefinger around the elastic that was securing the chestnut hair at the base of her heck, shaking the waves free over her shoulders. Rey flashed a mercilessly coquettish grin his way as she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she held out a proffered hand to Ben who’s wolffish grin had long since disappeared. Tangling her fingers between his, Rey gave him a quick tug and pulled him out into the sunlight,

“Today, Grandpa! Time to find out who’s got the most delicious pizza of them all….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Things are only _just_ starting to heat up.


	3. Pony/Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey found herself hungrily lost in the rhythm of his movement, entrapped by the dexterity and flexibility of his large hands as they worked the dough into a circle in seconds,
> 
> “You need a teacher,” Ben tucked his fingers underneath the elasticized, raw pastry, flipping it from palm to palm as he trained his eyes on her, “It’s true…I’m sure there’s all sorts of amazing things that you’ve learned in Italy, but I assure you…I have a lot to offer. So many things that come from…experience.” 
> 
> Ben gave a great flick of his wrists, flinging the stretched out dough into the air with a pop of his hip, the line of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he lifted his gaze to follow the elegantly spinning disc before effortlessly catching it in his wide palms. He lifted his scorching eyes to meet hers, tossing her the quickest of winks before catapulting the dough back towards the ceiling. Catching it more gently than someone his size should have been able to do, Ben flipped the crust, now stretched into a perfect, circular shape, onto a waiting pizza paddle.

Ben wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Smug? He knew that his family’s recipe was superior and didn’t need a contest in the street to prove it. Proud? They had gone up against each other, fair and square. Disappointment when it turned out that she had actually won with a clean sweep? Probably. But when Poe Dameron excitedly whooped over the loud speaker that Rey and Bocce Felice had won, Rey’s eyes turned to meet his in an instant and a joyous smile began to spread across her fine features like ripples in a still pond that had a pebble tossed in the center. 

As soon she smiled _at him_ , all other feelings were lost to him except for the captivating joy he felt for her, completely helpless as her elatedness flared in her eyes and became his own. Before he knew what was happening, Rey’s arms were around his shoulders as she ecstatically hopped into his arms. He couldn’t help but meet her in the middle, curling his arms around her waist and tucking his nose into the crook of her shoulder where the smell of her wafted over him. 

The hug was a simple enough gesture, something that friends do, but there was something… _more_. The arms wrapped around him were soft but strong and the feeling of her body so close to him made his head swim more than he expected it would. 

It was over within seconds, setting her on her feet as he pulled away, his mind whirling with the rapturous eagerness of what could be on the horizon. His fingers lingered on her waist, the sensation of the bare skin of her torso burning into this memory as Ben tried to memorize the feeling,

“Congratulations,” he hummed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “What do I owe you?”  
Rey’s megawatt smile spread even further across her freckled face, crinkling her eyes at the edges with pure mirth,

“I’m closing up shop early tonight for your lesson. Be there at eight,” her hazel eyes twinkled as she blinked slowly up at him, curling her perfectly pink tongue across her bottom lip before caging it between her teeth. She regarded him for a moment before lifting her hand to pat his chest with her palm. How he wished he captured it with his fingers and held it there against his heart so she could feel the effect the pure light of her smile had on him, “I look forward to…working with you, Ben.”

He held onto the feeling that hearing his name roll so easily off her lips for the rest of the afternoon, impatiently biding his time while he waited for the sun to sink beneath the horizon. 

As soon as the last bit of light peeked over the tops of the narrow brick buildings down the block, Ben stepped out into the cool night air. Pausing at the door for only a moment, he locked the door and stuffed them into his dark jeans pocket before stepping out into the cobblestone street. 

With just a couple of his signature, long strides, Ben stepped up onto the curb under the brightly lit sign _Bocca Felice_ to hover in the doorway. Peering past his reflection in the glass, his eyes found her in a second. A soft smile pulled at the edges of his face as he savored Rey’s silhouette behind the counter.

The multi-colored assortment of light fixtures over the tables were all dark, swathing the entire establishment in a thrilling blanket of shadow with the exception of a single work lamp shining down from the ceiling like a lone star glimmering from an empty night sky. Ben watched her move, enraptured by the curve of her face and the line of her brows, bent in an easy focus to the cutting board at her waist. 

Peeling his feet from the spot he found himself inexplicably rooted to, curling his long fingers around the door handle. With an easy pull of the cool metal, Ben pulled the door open with a _ding_ and stepped over the threshold. 

Her eyes lifted to meet his in a flash and an instantaneous smile spreading across her freckled face to meet her eye. It shone like stars in the country night sky without the city lights to dim them. The sun had gone down already, but Ben found that its light manifested itself here, eager to continue sharing the beamingly bright beams by letting them radiate from her.

Clearing his throat loudly, Ben stepped forward and offered a casual wave,

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m a little early…I hope that’s okay,” Ben mumbled, carding his long fingers through his dark hair.

“Oh yeah, I mean, of course…I like punctual. Punctual is good. I’ve already started a couple things, come on back,” Rey motioned towards the end of the counter for him to join her. Ben stepped around the edge, resisting the urge to stuff his fingers into his back pockets. He sidled across the thick, rubber safety mat up to the spot next to her at the gleaming stainless steel prep counter. Grazing his eyes over the ingredients she’d had set out in her mise en place around her cutting board, Ben was suddenly hyperaware of how alone they were. No customers, no crowded farmers market, not street full of people. Just him and her and the anticipation that just might kill him.

Shouldering her lean arm with his own, Ben grinned down at her and nodded at the contents of her workspace that startlingly different than earlier in the day. Ruby red tomatoes, basil, mozzarella…all good things but certainly not what he was expecting,

“This doesn’t feel like the same recipe as before. I don’t see any of your regular, blasphemous ingredients out here. Where’s the fruit?”

Rey let out an airy laugh, reaching out to snag one of the tomatoes to toss effortlessly in the air,

“There’s fruit, see?” she put the tomato to her lips with a grin, piercing the skin with her teeth and pulling a bite into her mouth. Rey chewed slowly, letting out a soft hum as she closed her eyes. Fluttering them open, she tucked her bottom lip into her mouth with her tongue with a twinkle in her eye, “The juiciest, most flavorful fruit in the place.”

“I sincerely doubt that it’s _the_ juiciest fruit here, Sweetheart,” Ben growled, taking a heavy step forward, hovering over her shoulder, “So, you’re telling me that you’re making _real_ pizza? Who knew you even knew how? I’m floored.”

“Be quiet and come over here,”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll literally be floored.”

“Oh, I hope so. I really do.”

“Here, get to work,” Rey slid her arm around his back and pulled him towards her and placed him in front of the cutting board, slapping a large pot in front of him, “We’re going to squeeze these beauties.”

Rey motioned in the metal receptacle to a fragrant mix of cooked plum tomatoes. She gave him an encouraging smile and reached inside to press one of the soft fruits into her palm. Ben tucked his long fingers into the warm, wet mass and obliterated one of the tomatoes with disgusting squirt,

“No no no, not like that, you giant nerfherder!”

“What did I do? You said squeeze it…” Ben shrugged. Rey stepped closer and pressed her body against his side, sliding her hands down his forearm to curl her fingers between his. He swallowed thickly as she guided their intertwined hands to selected a new tomato. He felt her cheek kissing the curve of his bicep as she murmured softly into the darkened restaurant,

“Gently,” Rey bent their fingers in tandem around the soft piece of fruit, letting the warm juices and meat of it seep out from between their hands, “My Nonna Maz always told me that we were squeezing the love out of each one so that everyone could taste it. You can’t force love out of a man’s heart, she said,” she guided their hands back in for another piece, gently squeezing between their fingers, “If you have to force the love out of a man’s heart, then you don’t want it.”

“You have a Nonna?” Ben mused, eager to keep her tucked against his side for at least a moment more, “I mean…you don’t exactly look Italian…”

“I don’t have any family. I met her when I was traveling in Naples…she sort of took me in and adopted me against my will. Taught me everything she knew.”

She continued the steady rhythm over and over, their fingers remaining tangled together until there was no more whole pieces remaining in the silver pot. Ben felt the sigh whisper over her lips as she stepped away from him to wash the pulp from her fingers, the mere inches between them suddenly an overwhelming amount of too much space.

Ben ambled over to the sink to wash his own hands, wiping them dry on a towel while he watched in amusement as the slight and slender Rey hoisted the massive pot from the stainless steel counter to the sprawling stovetop. 

Rey ducked down for a moment to light the burner before turning her attention back to him. They both stood rooted to the spot for a split second, drawn into the other’s gaze and caught up in the insatiable and magnetizing pull that thrummed incessantly between them,

“What do we do now?” Ben hummed, taking a heavy step forward. 

“I thought you knew,” Rey breathed, slowly inching forward. Ben watched her unblinkingly as she sidled forward, pressing her body against his as she breathlessly lifted her eyes to meet his, beckoning him to lean closer. She stood on her tiptoes, meeting him partway to brush her fingers through the dark curls covering his ears. Ben let out the smallest groan when her touch ghosted over the curve of the soft flesh and her warm breath pitched a scorching heat deep in his soul when she grazed her lips against his ear with a whisper, “I didn’t think you’d be this daft…it’s the most important part,”

He cleared his throat loudly, pulling back to bring her eyes back into his field of vision,

“What’s that?” he gulped, curling his long fingers around her lithe waist to pull her flush against him. Rey blinked slowly as a slow smile pulled at her lips,

“I was hoping to learn something new…would you be my teacher and show me everything I need to know?”

“I’ll teach you anything you _want_ to know, Sweetheart,” he growled, ducking his head down to brush the tip of his long nose across the curve of her shoulder,

“Good,” Rey whimpered, tilting her head to allow him temporary open access to the vast expanse of the golden, freckled skin at her throat, “I’ve always wanted to learn how to toss the dough like you did today.”

Ben blinked down at her while a confused smile hovered on his lips,

“What?”

“Pizza dough,” Rey stated, “What did you think I was talking about?”

“I think you know _exactly_ what you were projecting, Sweetheart…”

Rey scoffed, a coquettish grin pulling at her mouth as she blinked at him with a look of completely fabricated innocence,

“My, my…I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Solo.”

“I think you do,” he pressed, “Be careful…”

Rey’s breath hitched when she met his burning gaze, tucking her lip between her teeth hungrily,

“Or what?” she breathed, turning her body around slowly as Ben bypassed her to draw himself up to the workbench, entranced while she watched him flick a while towel from the glass bowl that held the proofed pizza dough. He tore a section of the dough off with a single twist of his fingers, weighing it in his palm from memory before reaching into a bowl for a handful of flour that he dusted in a single fluid motion over the stainless steel surface.

Rey found herself hungrily lost in the rhythm of his movement, entrapped by the dexterity and flexibility of his large hands as they worked the dough into a circle in seconds,

“You need a teacher,” Ben tucked his fingers underneath the elasticized, raw pastry, flipping it from palm to palm as he trained his eyes on her, “It’s true…I’m sure there’s all sorts of amazing things that you’ve learned in Italy, but I assure you…I have a lot to offer. So many things that come from…experience.” 

Ben gave a great flick of his wrists, flinging the stretched out dough into the air with a pop of his hip, the line of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he lifted his gaze to follow the elegantly spinning disc before effortlessly catching it in his wide palms. He lifted his scorching eyes to meet hers, tossing her the quickest of winks before catapulting the dough back towards the ceiling. Catching it more gently than someone his size should have been able to do, Ben flipped the crust, now stretched into a perfect, circular shape, onto a waiting pizza paddle. 

He turned on the heel of his boot, a boyish grin playing across his lips as he clapped his palms together, sending a cloud of flour blooming into the air. His smiled pierced her straight in her core, her joints suddenly fluid and fuzzy as she swallowed the lump her in her throat. Ben held out his hand, stretching his fingers towards her, 

“I want you to join me,”

Rey looked from his proffered hand to his face as a flirtatious smile spread its way across her fine features,

“What, are you some sort of space prince or something?”

Ben loosed a lighthearted chuckle into the air between the, giving his shaggy hair a shake,

“It’s your turn, Sweetheart….come show me what you got,” Ben nodded at the workbench, sidestepping a few inches to make room for her. 

Rey diverted her eyes from his with a soft flutter of her eyelashes, reaching into the flour bin to coat her fingers with the finely milled grain. Tucking her fingers into the bowl with the dough, she squeezed the pliable matter between her fingers to tear off a healthy-sized ball. She gathered another handful of flour to blanket the gleaming, silver surface like a thicket blanket of December snow, tracing long lines through the power with the tips of her fingers. 

Another cloud of flour danced into the air when the ball of warm dough landed with a soft _thud_ on the table and Rey leaned into the raw crust, gently spreading it with the tips of her floured fingers,

“No no no, not like this. Look how tense you are, loosen up, Princess,” Ben insisted, pivoting behind her to cover her back with the hard, corded planes of his chest. Rey’s breath hitched in her throat as his warm hands skirted down the flesh of her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze as he pulled himself closer. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against her back and his breath on her ear, “You’re still holding on. Let go.”

Ben covered her small hands, dwarfing them with her own as he guided her fingers to press and curl into the dough in an unexpectedly sensual motion,

“Y-you’re so good with your hands,” Rey murmured softly. How in god’s name was she supposed to retain any of this lesson when all she could think about was the feeling of him pressed against her and how badly she wanted to remove all remaining barriers. 

“And I haven’t even touched you yet, sweetheart,” Ben growled into her ear, following the downy lobe down with the tip of his aquiline nose. A shaky whimper stuttered past her lips, swallowing thickly as he continued to map their fingers around the edge of the dough, “Are you ready?”

“Mmmm?”

“We’re going deep, stay with me,” Ben pressed his hips into hers as he curled their fingers beneath the circle of dough, moving them as a single unit as he masterfully pitched the disc into the air while a fine dusting of flour rained down on their heads. His fingers remained woven between hers while he moved her like a puppet, sending the dough lofting into the air over and over.

Ben released her from his firm hold, slapping the paper thin crust onto the work surface,

“Sauce?”

“Cooler. I have some made,” Rey wavered for a moment as she lifted her finger to point to a door by her feet. Ben’s eyes twinkled for a second as a cocky smile tugged at the corner of his impossibly plush lips. He slowly sank to his knees, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he pulled a clear-plastic container from the bottom shelf. Lingering for a moment, he raked his gaze down her body while he pressed his mouth together in a firm line before swallowing thickly,

“You’re spending an awful lot of time down there. If you’re going to be gone much longer, make sure you send me a postcard,” Rey mused, the tips of her fingers aching to snake her fingers through the glossy, raven thicket of waves that was just within her reach at her waist,

“The weather is quite nice down here, I might have to extend my stay and get a real taste of the local cuisine,” he rumbled hungrily, lifting his hand to graze the inside seam of her olive jeans starting at her ankle, trailing higher and higher _and higher_ until he tore a breathless whimper from her lips as her eyelids helplessly drifted closed,

“Please…” Rey sighed with a hiss when the warmth of his hand disappeared from her inner thigh and she was clouded with the sting of momentary disappointment until she felt his mint-flavored breath moving the baby hairs around her face,

“Are you hungry?”

Rey slowly opened her eyes, lifting them to peer through her dark lashes to meet his searing gaze. His nose hovered just a hair’s breath away from hers and suddenly, the room was so much warmer and it had nothing to do with the roaring pizza oven just steps away,

“Famished,” she practically panted, lifting her face with the softest part of her lips. His honeyed-bourbon eyes flickered between hers as he drew himself closer to her. Rey was helpless in the shadow of the tangible appetite between them that needed to be sated as soon as possible before they’d spontaneously combust, her eyes drifting closed as she waited in wild anticipation of what was going to come next.

“Good, I am too. Let’s get these cooked.”

Rey’s eyes flashed open, her eyebrows creasing together as she inspected his beauty mark dusted face,

“Now?” she pressed, “I…I thought…”

“I won’t be able to stop once we start. And trust me,” Ben leaned closer, trailing the soft curve of his mouth across her cheek to her ear, “When I finally take you to bed and fuck you properly, you’re going to be glad you carb-loaded first.”

Rey’s cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like an early springtime rose, the soft color blooming in the loveliest way beneath her freckled skin. She let out a quiet groan as Ben pulled away, the soft of his waves caressing the rosy hue of her cheek. His dark eyes bored into hers as he patiently waited for some sort of sign that she was still (and impossibly so) coherent,

“Okay,” Rey breathed, her thighs pressed firmly together as her knees trembled from the knot of red-hot need curling deep in her belly and the voracious need that coursed through her body. The words he growled deliciously into her ear weren’t what she expected and she nearly came on the spot and she’d be forever grateful there was a sturdy counter to lean on. 

She caught her breath, trying to stoke the fire that he’d ignited inside her, turning what was merely a spark before into a full-fledged inferno that needed contained before it burned out of control. Ben quickly got to work, clearly better at driving himself to much-need distraction as she spooned a ladle of the crimson sauce onto the crusts, gently swirling the dollop of liquid treasure in wide circles to cover every inch of the dough.

He reached for the loaf of tender, fresh mozzarella, tearing off sections to dot against the bright color of the sauce,

“You gonna help me, or what?”

Rey pressed her palms against the cool, metal surface, pushing herself down the line towards him. She lifted her hand to the small of his back as she reached around him, plucking a handful of emerald basil leaves from a glass jar. Raising the fresh herbs to her nose, Rey inhaled deeply with a low groan before reaching up to let Ben share in the experience,

“I grow this in my garden, upstairs,” Rey mused, setting her hands to task, tearing the leaves between her fingers to sprinkle the pieces across each of the pies,

“You live here? Excellent.”

“Why’s that excellent?”

“Less distance to travel…” he lifted his dark eyes to meet hers with a wolffish grin. He curled his fingers around a bottle of olive oil and swirled one last drizzle over the top of each pie before leisurely sucking his fingers dry of the remaining golden liquid, “What’s your oven set to?”

“Seven-fifty.”

“Good, good,” he hummed, looking over the shape of the white, igloo shaped oven whose blazing firelight flickered out to light up their faces and create a delightful dance of shadows against the far wall, “Ninety seconds should do the trick, don’t you think?”

“More or less,” Rey purred, lowering her gaze to watch as he slid the pair of pizzas into the over. They watched together as the crust quickly came to a golden brown perfection and the delightful marriage of the sauce and the cheese as they bubbled and fizzled into one immaculate pairing.

Ben lifted the wooden paddle to pull the pizzas out of the over but stopped in an instant when Rey pressed her body against his, circling her arm around his waist,

“Wait. Don’t forget the love….”

A deep chuckle reverberated in his chest, 

“I could never…not with you here to remind me.”

When Rey gave him a nod of approval, Ben pulled the sizzling food from the oven and slid them onto waiting pieces of parchment paper. She pressed the sturdy wheel of the pizza cutter through the symphony of crackling crust and bent down to wafts the mouthwatering smells towards her nose. 

Rey let out a squeal when Ben wrapped a signal arm around her waist and lifted her to deposit her ass onto the stainless steel workbench, sending her into a fit of girlish giggles,

“I think this is against the Endor County health code,”

“Fuck if I care, I’m hungry,” Ben chuckled, leaning against the table beside her. Her new vantage point left her just above his eye level, deepening her grin and sending another wave of giggles fouling out of her…for once, he wasn’t the tall one,

“Hand it over,” Rey reached out with an insistent hand in front of him, wiggling her fingers in the direction of the fresh pizzas. An amusement smile played on his plush lips as he scooped up a slice from the board, pulling an impossibly long string of mozzarella that seemed to defy gravity as he raised it just out of reach from her expectant hands,

“Ah, ah, ah,” Ben mused, lifting it ever higher over her head, Ask nicely, your Highnessness,”

Rey caged her fingers around his waist, pulling his hand down to her mouth to take the largest bite she could. She chewed slowly, trying to make her way through the mammoth bite before her mouth combusted, her eyes watering in the corners as she swallowed,

“Ow.” 

Ben stifled his loud laugh with the palm of his free hand,

“Shit, be careful! You think you’d know not to put pizza that fresh in your mouth…”

“I like the gooey cheese,” she fanned her mouth and wiped a stray, involuntary tear from her eyes, “Want a beer? I have some _r2_ in the fridge in back,”

“Yeah sure, but you stay,” he set his hand that was nearly as big as her lap against her thigh with a soft smile, ducking into the back room before coming back with a pair of blue and silver cans. He cracked hers open with a _hiss_ before placing the perspiring can in her palm. 

“Alright Junior,” Rey lifted the cold metal to her lips and took a slow, deep drink, “let’s hear what the verdict is. Is my pizza as shitty as you think it is?”

“It isn’t shitty,” Ben mumbled, tracing the pad of his finger around the lip of the can, “I’m sorry I ever said that it was…I’m just used to things being a certain way. Tradition. Family. Expectations. I’ve never known anything different. So yeah, you were right and I’m an asshole. Domenico’s is outdated and old fashioned. There’s a reason why everyone comes here. It’s fresh and new and beautiful.”

He lifted his eyes to hers as she slowly chewed another bite of her pizza, her eyes widening because she could swear that Ben wasn’t talking about pizza anymore…

“Anyways…I think it’s maybe time for us to move on, we’re stuck in the past.”

“Ben,” Rey pressed, licking her fingers clean before placing her hand over his, “You don’t need to move on, you just need to _move forward_. Let the past die…kill it if you half to. Plus, I’ve seen the future,” she held her hands out into the darkened restaurant around them, “It could be yours too. I’ve seen the shape of it in the way you work with your hands and the generations of knowledge you have. Even I learned from you. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt for you to learn too?”

“It’s too late,” Ben pulled at the sticker on his can. Rey reached out and tucked a stray hair away from his dark eyes,

“It isn’t too late. I know it. Just let me help you.”

“Together, we could bring a new order to Hanna City…a whole new breed of pizza!”

“Whoa, whoa…slow down tiger. How about you eat first? You haven’t even tried it…”

With a soft chuckle, Ben lifted a gooey slice from the board and stuffed it into his wide mouth, letting out a low groan as he chewed with his eyes closed,

“Holy shit, what’s in your sauce?”

“Like it?”

“I mean…don’t tell my grandfather, but it might be the best sauce I’ve ever eaten…what is that I taste?”

“I won’t say. Family secret from Nonna Maz,” Rey shrugged, twirling a thread of cheese around her forefinger before reaching to pull it into her mouth with her teeth.

“Your Nonna…who isn’t actually related to you.”

“Sometimes the family you need is the one you make…”

“I won’t tell, I swear it.”

“Snitches get stitches, Ben…it’s a family secret, remember?” Rey deadpanned while she stuffed the last piece of her crust in her mouth.

“I’ll get that secret from you…just wait,” Ben growled, pushing himself off the workbench to pivot towards her and position himself in front of her knees. His eyes raked over her, his eyes darkening as he pressed in closer. He lifted his hand to draw the pad of his thumb across the bottom of her lip, “Sauce,”

Ben sucked his thumb dry with the soft curve of his lips. Ben took his fingers and tucked a ribbon of her chestnut hair behind her ear, pulling her closer as each second passed,

“You know I can take whatever I want….”

Ben leaned in, finally doing what they’d both been pining for, softly places a kiss against her mouth. He lingered for a moment, taking in every intoxicating moment and committing it to memory so he could remember the feel and the taste of her forever.

They pulled apart after a beat, taking trembling, shallow breaths as gold flecked hazel gazed into warm amber until the dam shattered. All sense was left behind as Ben tangled the ribbons of chestnut hair around his long fingers, devouring her mouth with thrilling fury. It was a feverish dance of lips, limbs, tongues and teeth. 

Their hands wandered, Rey’s fingers working quickly over his shoulders to tear the thin teeshirt from his back, pulling it over his head in a single fluid motion. Ben carded his fingers through his dark hair and swooped in again with a groan as Rey brushed her fingers over the bare skin of his chest. She worked his fingers around his body, blindly trailing the pad of her fingers from beauty mark to beauty mark like playing connect-the-dots.

Ben’s wound her hair around his knuckles, pulling her against him to claim the long line of her throat, drawing out small mewls from her lips with every molten kiss he pressed against her flesh. His hands ventured their way around around her lithe little body, exploring every inch as he followed each touch with a series of wandering kisses. 

Him and his dexterous mouth that had been following her the last few days, relentless in its task to draw every filthy thought she’d had about him from her mind. She’d tried to deny it, convincing herself that she was touch-starved. She very well may be, but what she felt Ben was beyond touch. It was an unexplainable need, a furiously ravenous desire that could only be satiated by one thing….

Like he had been sent from heaven above, Ben started to grant Rey’s most secret wishes, ticking them off, box-by-box. His mouth followed the lines of her body like he was Indiana Jones on an expedition to locate a rare and mystical treasure, tearing down walls and finding a secret treasure as he wound the stretchy fabric of her shirt around each of his forefingers, pulling the fabric down to free her breasts in one quick motion.

With a single look at her bare before him, Ben let out a deep groan, reaching up to cup it with his palm. He ran the pad of his long thumb, long enough to reach from side to side, across the supple skin, humming to himself with deep satisfaction when her rosy nipple pebbled at his touch,

Rey pulled away, her lips swollen from the frantic rhythm they’d stepped into and her hazel eyes glowing with an animalistic huger and desire,

“Please,” she whimpered. Ben swallowed the sound, devouring her mouth as his fingers trailed further down her body. Rey matched him movement for movement, trapping her fingers around the smooth material of his belt. With a quiet jingle, she unhooked dark alloy from black leather and flipped open the snap with a flick of her thumb. 

Ben stilled her hand as she moved to tear them from his waist and free his cock. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t ache for it and wanted nothing more than to be inside her, languorously fucking her to draw each moan and every orgasm from her over and over but couldn’t help but lift his eyes to the wall of windows at the far side of the store.

In the daytime, it filled the establishment with a bright, clean light that the people of Hanna City seemed to love. He agreed that the windows did good things for the small space, but Ben couldn’t help but think that the residents of Endor Avenue would appreciate their tryst in the same way they would,

“Rey…the neighborhood…” Ben groaned as Rey shirked his fingers from her wrist, making quick work of the zipper and his boxers to let his length spring free. Rey breathed in every moan salaciously, brushing her lips leisurely across his as her fingers wound their way around his cock, giving it a slow pump and drawing another deep moan,

“I don’t care. You know what I want. And now you’ll give it to me,” she purred against his ear, giving it a gentle nip with her teeth. He let out a deep growl that echoed through his chest like a rumble of thunder in a distant storm, pulling her to him with a new sense of desperation. 

He tucked his long fingers under the waistband of her jeans, tearing open the zipper and the snap with a pop, pushing his palms down beneath the fabric to hug the curve of her ass. The feeling of her flesh against his sent him spiraling faster than before. His whole body craved more, craved her, his cock even wept for it. 

Rey grinned at him as she continued to leisurely pump her fingers around his length, dragging her thumb across the bead at the head and giving him a silent nod. 

Without hesitation, Ben curled an arm around her waist, lifting her from the stainless steel table as he pushed the snug fabric over her ass and down her thighs. Rey let out a whimper when her bare skin made contact with the metal. He muffled her cry with his mouth, moving his lips against hers and was met with equal passion as Rey insistently returned the kiss with a fervor, toeing her converses from her feet and into a heap on the floor.

Ben reached his hand to her ankle, his mouth never wavering from its task while he gave a sharp tug, whipping Rey’s jeans off her feet in an instant. His palms traveled up her thighs, memorizing the feeling as he wound the paper thin fabric of her panties around his fingers, obliterating them with a jerk.

Rey’s tongue parted his lips, tenacious in its relentlessness to stick to the taste at hand while his fingers parted hers, pressing gently into her. She practically dissolved into him, letting out a whimper as he languorously curled his fingers upwards, lifting his shoulder as he gently began to move. 

Spurred on by the symphony of moans and whispers tumbling past her lips, Ben was determined to hear as much of it as her could, even if he was here all night. Rey mewled into his bare shoulder, helpless at her knees curved up, tucking around his back to pull him closer,

“So gentle,” she hummed, blinking lazily as Ben continued with the steady rise and fall of his shoulder while he continued to knead his palm against her clit, “I…more, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“More,” she keened, “Please, Ben. I want you to fuck me.”

The sound of her voice pleading so sweetly into his shoulder nearly made him cum on the spot. He relentlessly pumped into her, sending a searing shiver down the length of her body as went rigid against his bare chest when he quickly brought her to her peak. Rey moaned and whimpered quietly, pulling at his shoulders to pull his mouth to hers for a bruising kiss,

“Implant,” she breathed, tangling her fingers in his hair to devour his mouth in a series of scorching kisses. It was all Ben needed to push him over the edge and he enthusiastically claimed the soft flesh of her tit, rolling her rosy nipple between his teeth as she lined his cock up at her entrance.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, giving her once last scorching look to see the look in her eye when he slid into her. Rey let out a soft gasp, grazing her teeth across his shoulder, holding on for dear life as she stretched around him,

“You okay?” Ben pressed, curling the hard, curved muscle of his bicep around her waist. Rey gave a small nod and purred against his porcelain skin,

“You won’t break me. More.”

Ben pulled out slowly before pummeling his cock back in, tearing a lingering moan from Rey’s lips. He swallowed thickly, giving his body a moment to adjust to the feeling of her, so soft and warm and so fucking wet. Slowly, he increased his pace, letting the curling flames of his own pleasure building with every movement, moving faster and faster with each intoxicating time he buried himself inside her.

Their bodies moved together seamlessly, Rey meeting him thrust for thrust as she rolled her hips against his. Ben growled as their pace reached new ferocious heights, tucking his palms under her pert ass and lifting her into his arms. He brought his mouth to her tit, hungrily devouring it as they worked in tandem as he lifted her, guiding the roll of her cunt against him as he brought them back up to their steady rhythm as he voraciously fucked her in front of the stainless steel prep table.

Rey’s breath hitched and she went rigid in his arms, slowly swaying her cunt against him, drawing out her orgasm one quaking shudder at a time. Ben only gave her a second to savor it with a growing Cheshire grin before jolting back into her, building up speed until a piercing cry so sharp, Ben was afraid the whole neighborhood would be talking in the morning.

Ben kept up his pace, thrust after staggering thrust and every mournful keen that created a carnal symphony that reverberated around the rainbow-colored light fixtures as Rey tumbled down from her peak over and over. He chased the sound of her climax, a heady combination with the echo of flesh against flesh as his hips snapped against hers. 

The heat curled deep in his belly while he rocketed towards his own completion, groaning deeply as his entire body jerked as he came in hot spurts, dragging his mouth against Rey’s breast as he gave a final few pumps before stilling with flesh against flesh. 

Rey let out a soft groan, her head lolling against his shoulder,

“Well,” she breathlessly murmured, “ _That_ was not what I expected to happen after the last time you were in this restaurant.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Ben hummed, “So, is this it? Do I go now?”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of Rey’s mouth,

“Not a chance, Cupcake. We both have so much more learning to do,” she leaned down and languorously moved her mouth against his, “Now, take me upstairs before we violate any more health codes. I need more _teaching._ ”

 

*

 

Rey was elated that when Ben enthusiastically returned her kiss and practically bolted to the back of the restaurant and up the stairs. He practically kicked down the door to her cozy studio and didn’t make it past the granite countertop before Ben gently laid her down and quickly went to task devouring the sweet nectar her cunt had to offer like a feast to a starving man. 

They quickly worked their way around the apartment from the countertop, to against the front door…keeping the smoldering flame burning as they sampled each other over and over, relishing in the delectable flavors the other brought to the table.

The tour continued as they migrated from surface to surface, eventually landing, positively boneless and unable to continue any longer without some sort of rest having given each other an insatiably hot fuck on every piece of furniture in her tiny studio. 

Rey laid in the soft beams of the last bit of moonlight as it streamed through her windows onto her bed as she was curled under the arm of Ben Solo, blinking slowly in the milky light as she traced the tips of her fingers over the smooth alabaster expanse of his chest,

“Ben?”

“Hungry for more, Sweetheart?”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest, a slow smile spreading across her face as she captured her lip between her teeth,

“I _did_ promise you dessert…”

She swung a leg over him as Ben let out a boyish chuckle, caging his long fingers around her waist, nearly a man adrift on the silver sea of moonlight that caressed every soft curve of her body, illuminating her as if she was Diana herself, goddess of the moon…here with him, a mere mortal man,

“Gods. You’re beautiful. How can I say no?”

“You don’t,” Rey purred coquettishly, swirling her aching cunt against him as she leaned down to pepper a trail of kisses against his throat. Ben let a deep growl rumbled into the air between them as his eyes closed lazily, lost in the sensations she was gifting to him,

“Nnnggh, fuck, Rey…can I have a snack first?” Ben mumbled into the silver-white glow of the moonlight, reaching up to twine his long fingers in her hair as she continued her unrelenting need to bring him back to his peak over and over again,

“How about…you let me fuck you…and I’ll make you…breakfast…” Rey crooned between searing kisses.

“Mmm, I might consider that…w-what are you making?” Ben groaned, his cock giving a great twitch as it stirred back to life as Rey ground her clit against him,

“Does it matter?”

Ben swallowed thickly, rolling his head back on the pillow, pressing his mouth into a thin line as he tried to suppress the next moan that was bound to escape him,

“Nnnyeeesss…yeah it does…”

“Say yes first,” Rey purred, reaching between them to curl her fingers around his length as she lined him up at her entrance, positively starving as she waited for him to respond. She dragged the head against her core with a whimper, “Say yes, Ben. Please.”

“Gods, yes,” Ben caged his long finger around the curve of her ass, pulling her closer as she sheathed him deep inside her with a low groan,

“Benedict,” Rey murmured as she rolled her core against him with a breathless whimper.

“What? Ben. _BEN._.”

“Twat. Eggs Benedict. For breakfast,” she hummed, trailing her fingers up her torso to twist in her chestnut hair as she languorously rolled against him,

“That’s funny.”

“What is?”

“That’s what I make too,” he grinned wolfishly, curling his arm around her waist to flip her like a pancake to her back with a girlish squeal. He sheathed his cock deep inside her in a single, fluid motion. Rey’s breath hitched as her eyes fluttered closed with a soft sigh,

“You’ve got to be kidding. Are you a snob about that too? Or do I get a free pass since I don’t service it as Bocce Felice,” she mused as Ben slowly sheathed himself over and over,

“It depends…how do you make yours…with a whisk or blender? Please say whisk,” he groaned into her shoulder as she flexed her pussy around his aching cock,

“You,” she sighed, “You’re so old fashioned, you know?”

“When it comes to food…maybe. But tell me, Princess, does this *feel* old fashioned to you?” Ben growled, tucking her leg against his shoulder, gripping the lean, toned muscle with a bruising grip as he slowly rolled into her,

“Doesn’t it only matter what it tastes like?”

“Maybe…” he grinned.

“Let’s have a throw down,” Rey whimpered with a shiver, reaching up to curl her fingers in his hair. Ben leaned down to brush his lips against hers, consuming the breathless cry that escaped her as they leisurely chased their climax together, “Loser…loser gets…Gods….winner gets…nnnghh, Ben….”

“Win or lose…if it means we top if off like we did today, I’ll compete against your cooking every fucking day…”

Rey knew he was right, lost in the daze of their skin moving softly together like the most luxurious hand-spun silk, and the intertwining of their tongues and the sounds of her moans timed to rhythm of his body. With each subtle smile and touch between the kitchen and the bedroom, she knew that, with Ben, she’d never go hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading and a HUGE thank you to the fabulous House Swolo of the Writer’s Den for organizing this fabulous fest!


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